"Perfect. You look sensible. Not like the last one who tried to steal my husband's vintage watch collection," she said, pulling a leather-bound planner from her Chanel bag. "Can you start Monday? Little Grayer needs a firm hand, and I need to go to a fundraiser for endangered moss."
Of course, my own life was becoming a complicated juggling act. To keep my mother from having a heart attack, I maintained the lie that I was working in finance. I would change out of my sweatpants and into a pencil skirt in the subway station every evening before heading home. Then, there was Harvard Hottie.
He chuckled, a warm sound that echoed in the small space. "Well, Anthropologist Annie,Strictly off the record from the tribe, of course." DiГЎrio de uma Nanny ComГ©dia, Drama, Romance 200...
Grayer was the casualty of their ambition. He was a lonely little boy drowning in a sea of French lessons, swimming practice, and masterclasses for toddlers, starving for someone to just sit on the floor and play with him.
"No," I said, standing up straight, feeling a wave of calm wash over me. "I am the only person in this apartment who actually looks at your son. He doesn't need another French tutor, Mrs. X. He needs you." I was fired on the spot. "Perfect
"This is unacceptable, Annie," she said, her voice cold and trembling. "You are staff. You are not his mother. You have overstepped."
"I prefer the term 'urban anthropologist observing a bizarre tribal culture,'" I replied, flushed. "Can you start Monday
The next morning, Mrs. X called me into her pristine, white living room. She had found a nanny cam recording I didn't know existed. It didn't show me doing anything wrong—it showed me hugging Grayer, telling him he was loved, and letting him eat pizza.